


three, two, one

by quantumducky



Category: NormalBoots
Genre: Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 05:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13241403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumducky/pseuds/quantumducky
Summary: Paul gets a little drunk at a New Year's Eve party and has a last-minute crisis over not having anyone to kiss at midnight.





	three, two, one

**Author's Note:**

> intended to have this done two days ago but pobody's nerfect am i right

It was December 31st, and Paul Ritchey was at a party.  He wasn’t currently sure whose party this was or where it was being held, which he blamed on the champagne he was holding, in addition to the fact that he didn’t care enough to try very hard to remember.  One thing he _did_ know was that it was fifteen minutes to midnight, there was a couple getting way inside each other’s personal bubbles on the other side of the couch, and he himself did not have anyone to pair off with when the ball dropped.  He took a minute after having this thought to giggle about said ball-related phrase, because he was slightly drunk and very immature, which left him with one minute less than before to solve the problem.  After composing himself, he stood up decisively and, after wandering through the party a bit, headed for where the most people seemed to be.

Walking into the middle of a room filled with people having various conversations, he yelled, “Who’s gonna kiss me?”  It wasn’t the best plan, but it was better than accosting the nearest person when midnight struck, a strategy likely to get him injured.  A few people gave him weird looks, but no one volunteered themselves.  He sighed and tried to look thoughtful in the hope that it would help him come up with a better idea.

He yelled again, this time in surprise, as someone appeared out of nowhere right next to him.  Once he recovered from almost having a heart attack, he said in a betrayed tone, “When did you get so _sneaky,_ Nick Murphy?”

Nick raised an eyebrow.  “When did you get so _drunk?”_  He couldn’t seem to decide whether to be disapproving or impressed.

“I’m not that drunk,” Paul protested.  “It’s champagne, it’s like half air, I’d need way more of this to be drunk.”

“That’s not how it…”  Nick trailed off, unsure how exactly it _did_ work.  “Anyway, if you aren’t drunk then why are you going around yelling for people to kiss you?”  His dumbass brain chose this moment to remind him that he wouldn’t be at all opposed to doing that himself, and he snatched Paul’s champagne out of his hand and drank some to cover for the blush he could feel rising in his face.  Paul stole it back a second later, indignant, but Nick didn’t think he needed all of it anyway and so paid no attention to the near-pout directed at him.

Before he could explain the line of reasoning that had gotten them here, Paul was interrupted by the arrival of Josh, who pushed several people out of the way to reach them.  “What about kissing Paul?”  Josh demanded, slightly out of breath.

“Well, as I was about to _say--”_  Paul gave Nick a look--  “I’m trying to find someone to kiss at midnight, and it’s like eleven fifty-seven, and I’m kinda freaking out here!”

There was a beat of silence, followed by Josh and Nick talking over each other.

“Oh, well, uh, in that case--”

“If you haven’t found anyone, then--”

“I’ll do it,” the two of them said in unison.  They turned to look at each other, both much less surprised than they probably should have been, and shot each other a glare.

“I was here first,” Nick hissed.

“Well you should have called dibs then!  You missed your chance,” Josh shot back.

“Uh… guys?” Paul tried.  They didn’t seem to hear him.  “Guys!”  They blinked and turned around.  It was like they’d been so busy arguing over him they’d forgotten he was standing right there.  “They’re about to start the countdown!”

“Shit.  Uh… Fuck it, we’re both kissing you,” Josh decided.

“Wait, what?”  Nick saw some potential problems with that, but apparently no one else did.  Whatever, it was too late now, the countdown to midnight was starting and he didn’t want to get sulked at for ruining the moment with clarifying questions.  He went along with the idea that this was going to be physically possible, joining in the building excitement that swept through the room.

_“Three… two… one… HAPPY NEW YEAR!”_

The air around them exploded with noise and confetti, and they all mentally shrugged and went for it.  It was not the smoothest kissing experience any of them had ever had.  It proved impossible to actually get all their mouths in the same place, because of how the rest of their faces existed while this was going on, so they had to sort of take turns.  Nick ended up kissing Josh, too, which hadn’t even been part of the deal, but he wasn’t complaining.  It took a good few seconds for them to all break apart.  It had been much more genuine than any of them had intended.  They laughed, a bit embarrassed, and all secretly wondered if it would go over well to suggest that they do that again.

“Your glasses stabbed me in the eye,” Josh informed Nick.

Nick remembered that he was even wearing those in the first place, and noticed that they were about as horribly askew as it was possible for glasses to be without falling off.  He fixed them back into place, and apologized to Josh as an afterthought.

Josh didn’t notice how half-assed Nick’s response was.  He was busy looking at Paul, who was busy looking very ill.  A second later, Paul turned and ran a few feet away, and threw up over a trash can.

Nick blinked, nonplussed.  “You good?”

Paul coughed and finished the little remaining of his drink in an attempt to get the awful taste out of his mouth.  “Better than thirty seconds ago, that’s for sure.”  He saw the face Josh was making and grinned.  “Wanna kiss me _now?”_

“Ew!  No, gross, get away from me!”  Josh darted away, and hid behind Nick just to be safe.

“Absolutely not,” Nick agreed.

“Listen, you never know, there’s probably people who are into that,” Paul defended himself, trying and failing not to laugh.  “Fine, I’ll go clean up if you’re gonna be all picky about it...”

“I told you you were drunk,” Nick called after him as he walked away.

“You shut up.  I’m not _drunk,”_ Paul insisted.  “I was just… nerves.”

“Are you sure that’s the story you wanna go with?”  Josh was giving him a look that suggested it probably wasn’t.  “You weren’t actually drunk, you were just so nervous about kissing us that you threw up?”

Paul thought about it.  He couldn’t quite grab hold of why that wasn’t a good story to go with, even if it was at least partially true, but Josh seemed very sure of himself, and he _was_ right about things a lot.  “Fine, I’m drunk, then.  You know, from the like three-ish glasses of champagne I’ve had.”  He started to walk away again, and Josh laughed.

“Wow, you’re a fuckin’ lightweight.”

Then again, Josh was also just fucking with him a lot.  Paul would return the favor when thinking was easier.  In a way that involved more of the kissing, if possible.  Nick, too, because he started it.  The train of thought may have been getting away from him.  For now he was just going to go with the safest option, which was telling them both without turning around,  _“Shut up.”_


End file.
